


Impossible

by EchoTheLoser



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Gen, Guilt, I don't think food souls can permanently die but I tagged it just cause it seems like it, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Major Character Injury, My First Work in This Fandom, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Beta Read, so sorry if it seems ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-01 19:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16290482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoTheLoser/pseuds/EchoTheLoser
Summary: An argument causes Steak to snap and use his linked skill on Red Wine.





	1. Chapter 1

_Perhaps this never would have happened if I hadn’t crossed that line_ , is one of the last thoughts in Red Wine’s mind. He stares blankly at the face that he can no longer see in front of him, his eyes unfocused. He can hear someone yelling, but it’s distant, muffled by shock even more so than by the pain.

This shouldn’t be possible. This shouldn’t be real. How could it be? Their combined power shouldn’t be able to do this to him. But it was possible. The pain was as real as it could be.

Even in this state he refused to let the other feel any semblance of joy from the victory; even as he fell to his knees, clutching his chest as though a simple hand would be enough to stop the precious blood soaking through his gloves, Red Wine forced a smirk up towards Steak.

~~~♡~~~

It had been only a minute before the fight that Red Wine had said the fatal faux pas. At any other time such a remark would have simply lead to more sparring, a simple clashing of swords, a simply colliding of fists. They would have both been left bruised and bloodied, and would have refused to speak to each other for days afterwards, until a second fight would have broken out and they’d have returned to their normal lives, all strained tension dissipated by the familiar fiery hatred.

All they would have needed was just some more time and everything would have gone back to normal, just as it always did. But they didn’t have more time, and this was one fight that Steak could not forgive that easily.

Neither of them could even recall what started the first fight of today. It had been quick and ruthless, as most of their fights are. Just five seconds of punching and stabbing, barely doing enough damage to sting.

Red Wine had always secretly enjoyed these small conflicts of theirs, and as far as he could tell, so did Steak. Theirs was a bond built on a foundation of hatred, but it was a bond nonetheless. Arguing over pointless problems was relieving, compared to the anguish of real battles where neither of them knew whether or not they’d escape unscathed. At least when they were fighting each other they knew that no one else was at risk. At least they knew there’d be no lasting consequences no matter which of them won or lost. At least they knew neither of them would go too far.

Until Red Wine did. He’d been having a horrible day ( _which_ , he now reflects distantly, _was most likely what led me to pick that fight in the first place_ ), and, seeing the tears in his waistcoat and the dirt staining his pristine gloves, all while the blinding sun bore down on him and Steak glared at him with those blazing red eyes as he wiped away the warm blood left from a punch to his jaw, Red Wine was pushed over the one line the two of them had drawn.

_“You’re just as pathetic as your old Master.”_

Neither of them ever dared speak of their previous Attendants. They’d kept each other from even thinking about them ever since Steak had drawn Red Wine out of his grief. A word of ill will towards them was as good as a death wish for anyone, even after years of recovery from their losses. Red Wine knew that he would kill anyone who even said the name of his Attendant, with her haughty words and kind smiles. Steak, with his blind loyalty, would be willing to do much worse if anyone dared mock the man who he’d been loyal to till his death.

For once in Red Wines life, he felt the urge to apologize.

Steak had rushed at him with rage enveloping his features as soon as both of them had realized what Red Wine said. At any other time, Steak would have beaten Red Wine to an inch of his life for his words, and Red Wine would have recovered. He may have even given that apology, eventually, maybe in a few years once the bitterness had faded.

This time, Gingerbread’s shield came between them before either of them could strike.

_“Come on you two. Master Attendant says that we’re needed for a battle.”_

Steak sheathed his storm and stormed past Red Wine, and they both went towards their current Master Attendant.

~~~♡~~~

Steak didn’t even glance his way during the battle. His eyes stared straight ahead as he forcefully slashed at every monster in his path. As hard as he tried to focus was, he was clearly thrown off; occasionally he would let his guard down and get hurt far more than he should have. Red Wine wasn’t faring much better, distracted every time Steak stumbled. If Gingerbread wasn’t defending them they may have all gone down. All of them were only halfway from collapsing where they stood.

Still, despite their struggles, the battle was almost won. Only one enemy remained, and with a strong enough attack they’d be defeated. And with the amount of power that both Steak and Red Wine were feeling, such an attack would come any second. But as the power rose, so too did the number of times that Steak lost his focus. Red Wine, as much as he hated to admit it, was worried. With how enraged Steak was, would he be willing to use the power the two of them shared? Certainly he wouldn’t be stupid enough to let them be defeated just out of spite. The power reached its peak, but no attack was made. Steak was out of breath, alternating between slashing and flinching in pain. Red Wine could see his shoulders shaking with anger as the fallen angel refused to die, couldn’t die until Steak got over himself and killed it. And still, Steak did nothing.

_“Kill it, you ignorant swine!”_

Steak finally looked at him. No, he looked past him.

The unmistakably beautiful scent of blood filled the air as the blades came down upon him.

~~~♡~~~

This shouldn’t be possible.

Someone is screaming, screaming Red Wine’s name, screaming at Steak. Gingerbread? His Master Attendant? He can’t hear the voice clearly enough to tell. All he knows is that it’s not Steak. Steak is still staring directly at him.

The eyes looking into his own shift emotions far too quickly to keep track of. Coldness, rage, shock, confusion, fear, guilt, all in less than a second. Steak drops his blades and steps back as if unsure of what he just did. Then he runs forwards, trying to catch Red Wine as he falls, doubling over as countless wounds bring him to his knees.

 _Is this my fault?_ Red Wine thinks, pain stealing away his haughtiness.

He opens his mouth to say something, anything to bring back normalcy, to goad Steak into yelling at him, hitting him, doing anything but staring at him with that look of shock and guilt. Not even a single syllable escapes him before being cut off by coughing and the startling taste of Red Wine’s own blood as his lung feel like they’re being torn apart. Soon enough though, the pain seems to dim as he feels himself drifting farther and farther out of consciousness.

_Why is this happening? How could I allow this to happen? I cannot lose to Steak. I cannot. I cannot. I… did I cause this? How? Why am I-_

Steak is saying something but Red Wine can only hear static. He strains his eyes, trying to see anything and can only vaguely make out Steak’s face. It almost looks like he’s apologizing.

_Apologizing? What could Steak ever apologize for, after what I’ve done? He would never apologize to me, even he’s not that ignorant. Who would ever ruin their victory by apologizing? It’s absurd. It’s…_

Red Wine lets out a silent laugh as his eyes drift closed.

“Im…possible.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to add one more chapter to this fic!

 

Steak sits still near the walls of the ice arena. He hasn’t moved from this spot in days, except to avoid the others. This is not a difficult task; recently the healers are the only souls who’ve done so much as look into the room. For this, Steak feels gratitude, despite the complete lack of anything to be grateful for. He does not wish to speak with any of the other souls. He does not wish to have them look at him with eyes full of hatred and sorrow. He does not wish to hear their whispers of disgust and pity. Most of all, he does not want them to see him like this, in this feeble state, forced to feel sorry for and and  _ forgive  _ him for what he’s done. Steak knows this is his responsibility to bear; he knows that traitors deserve the worst punishments imaginable. Forcing himself to stay here was the most painful justice Steak could imagine; more so than the screams and wounds inflicted once the others had realised what he’d done, more so than the fear in his teammates’ eyes, more so than the isolation Steak built for himself afterwards.

Red Wine lays completely still in the center of the ice. No one knew where to put him. His blood was wiped clean, his expression left calm, as natural a state of recovery as he would have had after any normal fight. There was no trace of the pain and hysteria that was present before he faded away as he’d whispered his last words, words that he’d said countless times before only this time twinged with genuine disbelief.

However, just because the image has changed doesn’t mean the scene is gone. Steak sees it every time he closes his eyes.

~~~♡~~~

Food Souls can’t die, or rather they can't stay dead. 

Out of everything known of them, this was the most basic of facts, a fact that Steak repeats over and over to himself. No matter if their life force was completely destroyed in battle, they would always just be brought back to themselves, with only some minor exhaustion present where death had once been. They would fight, and they would die, and they would be brought back all over again. There was no reason to fear dying, aside from the pain.

The prospect of causing that intense of pain alone should have made Steak pause. To kill was not just the results of a petty fight, and to kill someone he cared for (no matter how bitter that care may have been) went against everything he stood for. And he'd known that as soon as his swords came down, as soon as Red Wine looked at him with a level of shock and fear that so rarely graced that composed face. He'd known the second his rage evaporated leaving him holding a body whispering his last words.

But even then, no matter how terrible it was to kill in cold blood, it was meant to be temporary. Because Food Souls cannot die.

Red Wine would wake up right after the battle, exhausted but healed. Neither of them would forgive each other, not for the way Steak’s swords had stabbed through Red Wine’s heart, nor for the mocking words out of Red Wine’s mouth just minutes before. _ ‘You’re just as pathetic as your old master,’  _ he’d said, sneering, breaking out of the few boundaries the two of them had set. Steak had hated him, truly hated him in that moment. He’d seen the regret in Red Wine’s eyes as soon as he said it, but it would not take those words back. They would have hurt each other either way. Steak’s blades would have crashed down upon him, but not using their joint move, how could it be using that power? 

Red Wine would have been hurt, by Steak’s hand only, but he would wake up, A tentative bond between rivalry and friendship would be destroyed as they became each other’s enemies more so than anyone else they had fought together before. And it would have ruined them, that hatred, that sudden lack of familiarity, of how they’d been for centuries. The team would have been left broken, as everyone took sides and split apart, with no one left to hold them together, as it was now except now the team wasn’t divided, now the team was simply against him, including himself. They would have been shells of the order of knights they once were. But Red Wine would wake up.

To twist and corrupt the bond between them was too dishonourable for even Steak’s darkest moments, it shouldn’t have been possible at all, not for Steak to consider, not to happen. How could it happen? He had never heard of anyone’s link being used against themselves before, it was simply unpredictable and dangerous and wrong. It is not as his Master would have wanted. None of this was what him Master would have wanted; he would have wanted Red Wine to wake up, and for them to forgive each other, and for life to return to normal. But his old Master was not here, and his new Master couldn’t even look at him in their grief.

Food Souls can’t die. 

Red Wine's body would neither decay nor dissapear. 

So why wasn’t he waking up?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This fic was pretty rushed, so if there's any typos or grammar mistakes, please let me know! This was also my first time writting for the Food Fantasy fandom, so I'm sorry if the characterization is kinda off. Comments and constructive criticism would be appreciated!


End file.
